look, I grabbed my basket and ducked out of the short door of the chicken coop.
“So, you have it.”
I stopped just short of running into Reyn, lurking right outside the coop. No human being should look that good this early in the morning. I myself was sporting my traditional cat-dragged-in look, but Reyn was beautifully rumpled, with a sheen of beard stubble that begged to be touched.
“What?” I wanted to climb him like a tree.
“Your amulet,” he said, falling into step as I headed toward the kitchen.
“Yes. It’s so… beautiful,” I said, still in awe. “I never thought I’d have it. I can’t believe—”
Oh, I can’t believe I’m gushing about it when it killed everyone in your family.
“I’m glad you have it,” Reyn said as he opened the kitchen door for me. “I’m glad it could be repaired.”
I stopped and looked up at him, reading the honesty in his strong, chiseled face. There passed between us an understanding: Reyn did not kill my family, though he was connected to it, and I did not kill his family, though I was connected to it. But neither he nor I had
caused
those tragedies. He and I were guilty merely of surviving.
What were we, to each other? What could we become? Maybe it was my hormones talking, but I thought I saw the same questions, the same wondering, in his eyes.
“Thank you,” I said inadequately.
“You’re letting in the cold air.” Daisuke stood in the doorway, looking at us. “And we need the eggs.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, handing him the basket. How could I be alone with Reyn again? When? I wanted it as much as I was scared of it.
Everyone seemed subdued at breakfast, lost in their own thoughts. There were so many weighty matters going on: River’s brothers and their suspicions; wondering about the larger picture; wondering about me and my tarak-sin; our general safety…
“Hey!” I said, breaking the silence. “Did y’all know I can summon dead spirits with my amulet? It’s
awesome
!”
Sometimes one has to shake things up a bit.
“Here.” River pushed a shopping list at me. “Lorenz has to go to town to see the dentist, so you might as well join him and get these things for us.”
I nodded and took the list. “How’s Ott?”
“He’s lying down,” River said pointedly. “Having to be Heimliched upset him.”
“That bit of sausage was bad timing,” I agreed.
“Please don’t forget the whole-wheat pastry flour,” she said.
West Lowing, Massachusetts, is a small town with one main street, imaginatively called Main Street. Five weeks ago I’d gone there every day to work at MacIntyre’s Drugs.Then I’d gotten fired, twice. I hadn’t been there since I got back from Boston.
“Okay,” said Lorenz as I parked the car. “I’ll be back in about half an hour. I hope.” His long-fingered, elegant hand rubbed his cheek as if it ached.
“Let’s hear it for modern dentistry, eh?” I said, and he grimaced. Actually, as much as people dislike going to the dentist now, try doing it two hundred years ago, when having a cavity meant some quack knocking it out with a chisel and hammer in the market square. With no anesthetic.
That’s the kind of thing that makes me crazy when immortals (or even regular people) gripe about missing the good old days and how much more civilized things used to be. I’m like, civilized? Like before indoor plumbing? Before novocaine? Before bug spray? Please.
The one grocery store, Pitson’s, was actually pretty well stocked. We grew most of our own food at River’s Edge, but we hadn’t gotten around to grinding our own flour yet or making our own baggies. I guess River was just slacking off.
My basket had four smooth wheels and didn’t list severely to either side, so, score. Up and down the aisles I went, crossing things off my list, feeling productive. In one corner of the cart I stacked an assortment of contraband items to squirrel away in my room: Pop-Tarts, Twizzlers, some Fudge Grahams, a
“So, you have it.”
I stopped just short of running into Reyn, lurking right outside the coop. No human being should look that good this early in the morning. I myself was sporting my traditional cat-dragged-in look, but Reyn was beautifully rumpled, with a sheen of beard stubble that begged to be touched.
“What?” I wanted to climb him like a tree.
“Your amulet,” he said, falling into step as I headed toward the kitchen.
“Yes. It’s so… beautiful,” I said, still in awe. “I never thought I’d have it. I can’t believe—”
Oh, I can’t believe I’m gushing about it when it killed everyone in your family.
“I’m glad you have it,” Reyn said as he opened the kitchen door for me. “I’m glad it could be repaired.”
I stopped and looked up at him, reading the honesty in his strong, chiseled face. There passed between us an understanding: Reyn did not kill my family, though he was connected to it, and I did not kill his family, though I was connected to it. But neither he nor I had
caused
those tragedies. He and I were guilty merely of surviving.
What were we, to each other? What could we become? Maybe it was my hormones talking, but I thought I saw the same questions, the same wondering, in his eyes.
“Thank you,” I said inadequately.
“You’re letting in the cold air.” Daisuke stood in the doorway, looking at us. “And we need the eggs.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, handing him the basket. How could I be alone with Reyn again? When? I wanted it as much as I was scared of it.
Everyone seemed subdued at breakfast, lost in their own thoughts. There were so many weighty matters going on: River’s brothers and their suspicions; wondering about the larger picture; wondering about me and my tarak-sin; our general safety…
“Hey!” I said, breaking the silence. “Did y’all know I can summon dead spirits with my amulet? It’s
awesome
!”
Sometimes one has to shake things up a bit.
“Here.” River pushed a shopping list at me. “Lorenz has to go to town to see the dentist, so you might as well join him and get these things for us.”
I nodded and took the list. “How’s Ott?”
“He’s lying down,” River said pointedly. “Having to be Heimliched upset him.”
“That bit of sausage was bad timing,” I agreed.
“Please don’t forget the whole-wheat pastry flour,” she said.
West Lowing, Massachusetts, is a small town with one main street, imaginatively called Main Street. Five weeks ago I’d gone there every day to work at MacIntyre’s Drugs.Then I’d gotten fired, twice. I hadn’t been there since I got back from Boston.
“Okay,” said Lorenz as I parked the car. “I’ll be back in about half an hour. I hope.” His long-fingered, elegant hand rubbed his cheek as if it ached.
“Let’s hear it for modern dentistry, eh?” I said, and he grimaced. Actually, as much as people dislike going to the dentist now, try doing it two hundred years ago, when having a cavity meant some quack knocking it out with a chisel and hammer in the market square. With no anesthetic.
That’s the kind of thing that makes me crazy when immortals (or even regular people) gripe about missing the good old days and how much more civilized things used to be. I’m like, civilized? Like before indoor plumbing? Before novocaine? Before bug spray? Please.
The one grocery store, Pitson’s, was actually pretty well stocked. We grew most of our own food at River’s Edge, but we hadn’t gotten around to grinding our own flour yet or making our own baggies. I guess River was just slacking off.
My basket had four smooth wheels and didn’t list severely to either side, so, score. Up and down the aisles I went, crossing things off my list, feeling productive. In one corner of the cart I stacked an assortment of contraband items to squirrel away in my room: Pop-Tarts, Twizzlers, some Fudge Grahams, a
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